


The Season

by auroreanrave



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Christmas, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pack Feels, Seasonal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas only comes once a year, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Season

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluffy pack feels and tooth-rotting sweetness because it's what I love. It's pretty much a case of Season 3 onwards. Teen rating is for vague but specific mentions of sexuality and some appropriate cuss words. If offended, I apologise. Enjoy!

Their apartment is too cold sometimes and too hot the other. When the rain comes, it leaks into the kitchen sometimes so they have put an old saucepan there to catch the raindrops and they make bets on how much it will take this time.

When it's cold, Stiles burrows into duvets and more layers than usual. Derek has found scarves and a glove tucked into their comforter more than once when December hits.

(He later finds the other glove when washing the sheets. It smells like Stiles and he cradles it longer than he ever really should).

When Derek fucks him, he always makes sure to do it on the bed. He might not be impervious to the cold, but Stiles got a chill the last time they fucked on the kitchen counter and the sight of Stiles, red-nosed and grouchy, however hilarious, isn't something he wants to repeat.

He makes sure Stiles is warm when they make love, makes sure he lends Stiles as much of his warmth as he can. Fucks him deep into the mattress so that when they're done and spent, sweat and spit and lube and come making a mess of those freshly-washed sheets, Derek can wrap his arms around Stiles and hold him and make him safe and still and warm.

The rest of the pack will be here soon. Derek is washing and drying glasses and setting the places at the table, watching the snow fall thick and slow and heavy against the window panes. Scott and Allison will be picking up Isaac at the train station, Boyd and Erica doing the same for Cora at the community college. Lydia and the others are coming soon. He can feel it.

He feels safe and warm and so secure that for a moment, he's not really sure... how to feel. It's been so long. Like a rusted gear coming back to life, creaking and groaning but moving, surely and certainly against the tide of a stronger power. He likes it.

Derek smiles and finishes preparing the turkey, chops the vegetables he can (Stiles is going out for last-minute fresh greens, his decision), checks the timings on the laminated sheet Stiles had prepared weeks in advanced ("nope, we are totally doing it my way because I want my dinner edible, Derek"), and sits down on the couch with _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ on the TV.

A flurry of noise behind him as the door opens signals the first of the new arrivals. Stiles and the Sheriff (he keeps insisting Derek calls him John), the former laden down with grocery bags and the latter shrugging off the thick winter coat and his own bags onto the kitchen counter, seal the door behind them, keeping the cold firmly at bay.

"Derek, seriously, I have _no idea_ how we're gonna pull this off - I mean, Cora's on that vegetarian kick and Danielle and Lydia have been debating about eating meat after that PETA rally on campus _and_ Danny's lactose intolerant and - "

"Seriously," John laments, taking Derek's seat on the couch as Derek rises to help Stiles with the bags, "please do some kind of werewolf trick to make him calm down. It's been this for the whole car ride." John turns up the volume on Charlie and Lucy and Derek heads over to Stiles.

"We'll be fine. Always are." Derek firmly removes the bag of parsnips (Stilinski tradition, apparently) from Stiles' hands and kisses him against the counter. Stiles' hands bracket Derek's waist, Derek's sliding around to the counter either side of Stiles, enclosing him in.

Stiles nods when they break away, flushed and smiling. "We always are."

Derek grins, wolfish, and kisses him once more before breaking away to manhandle the turkey, trimmings and all, into the oven, looking up from his ministrations to watch the snow fall thicker and faster with every passing second.

Stiles unwinds the scarf from his neck, begins to chop and season everything in sight he can lay his hands on, while Derek pours John a beer and lays the table for dinner.


End file.
